


Something Carnal

by CSIGurlie07



Category: NCIS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSIGurlie07/pseuds/CSIGurlie07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief interlude between the perils of being Zibbs. Rated Mature for a reason. That reason is not meant for young eyes, so please read responsibly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Carnal

Ziva took a deep breath, letting the familiar musk of sawdust and bourbon wash over her. It was warm, and intimate, and she was unsurprised when rough hands touched her skin, gently working their way up beneath the shirt that wasn't hers. It was much too large, but she'd tied the tails together up across her ribs, leaving a wide expanse of skin bare open to the slight draft that was always present in the basement.

Instinctively, she knew that she wouldn't be chilled for long.

"You're glad I'm home for good then, yes?" she said, letting her eyes open to mere slits.

She watched Jethro move closer, nearly prowling in the murky shadows of the unfinished basement. His features were calm, blank—but his eyes glinted with a familiar gleam. A smile grew on Ziva's own lips, as the mood of the basement warmed in the space of an instant.

"Uh huh," Gibbs returned lazily.

"I do not believe you," she taunted, backing away from him teasingly. Gibbs followed predatorily, his lips smirking as he picked up on her growing arousal. He maintained his distance though, keeping a few feet from where she stood. He eyed her carefully, raking up and down her form.

She saw the way his eyes simmered when he saw the length of her denim shorts, and knew that the barefoot beachcomber look had been the right way to go.

"Liking what you see, I see—"

His lips on hers silenced her words as he swooped in, bringing his body flush with hers. One of his hands went immediately to her bared midriff, caressing the warm skin exposed.

His other hand traced it way down to her arm, coming to a stop only when his fingers tangled with hers. Her free hand returned the touch, languidly traveling south of his waistband. He twitched under her palm, then slowly pressed her closer to the skeleton of a boat that stood in the middle of the room. His lips continued to steal her breath, even as she gasped as his hand moved to the bare skin of her thigh.

His lips traced down her neck, following her pulse until he was kissing the skin directly over her heart. Her head rested in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Her breathing was thick and heavy with growing arousal, her cheeks flushed. Her vision started to pound in time with her pulse, but she didn't once lose track of him as her hand cupped the side of his neck. Her touch was gentle, caressing—a stark contrast to the sharp nip she gave his earlobe, which made him jump slightly in surprise.

His eyes looked up at her in silent question. The feral grin looking back at him said all bets were off.

Without further ado he straightened and recaptured her lips. He pushed her back until her spine arched against a rib of the bare-boned boat frame. She attempted to push back against him, to return his fervor, but he kept her in place by a firm grip on her hips.

In a few moments she conceded control, allowing him to continue his task unhindered. His knee planted itself firmly between her thighs, making her moan into his mouth. His nimble fingers deftly undid the knotted shirt tails before slowly climbing upwards, undoing the line of buttons as he went.

As soon as the last button popped free he pushed the oversized shirt from her shoulders, palming her smooth skin as he did so. The skin-on-skin contact sent a jolt of fire through Ziva's awareness, and she bit his lip in reaction.

It was sharp and quick—not enough to break skin, but left the flesh tender to the touch. She continued to kiss him, sucking and pulling the lip, teasing him. She could see the heat climbing up his neck, and knew that her efforts were successful. Tomorrow, he would scold her for knowing how to play him like a fiddle. But tonight, she would torture him as long as she possibly could.

He broke away just long enough for her to slip his old grey t-shirt over his head. She tossed it aside, not bothering to see where it landed. By now her own shirt lay crumpled at her feet, abandoned to the dusty floor. His hands quickly returned to her midriff, brushing lightly across her ribs.

She knew his long fingers were memorizing where her scars were located, how long they were, how wide… even as he began to lose the capacity of rational thought. She grinned lightly against his lips, enjoying the strange sensation of his rough calluses brushing against her newly healed skin.

Between the scars left from Saleem's men and the newest gunshot wound from Barrett's ineptitude, there were many for him to investigate. She didn't feel insecure about them— they were part of her now. She was simply glad they no longer pained her; it would have made doing _this_ so much more difficult.

When his hands moved to undo the button of her denim shorts, she somehow managed to pose a question through the growing haze of her libido.

"Do you want to take this upstairs?" she voiced breathlessly. His fingers halted their movement for a moment as he looked at her in surprise. They returned to their task, giving her his answer before he even had a chance to verbalize.

"No," he said huskily. The growl in his voice fueled her arousal, and when he pressed forward again, she allowed him to pin her once more against the boat. The wood pressing into her skin had been partially sanded, a result of their recent tutorial on sanding by hand. So while the flat faces were relatively smooth, the edges of the frame were sharp against her skin. She didn't mind though—in fact, she relished the contrasting textures against her sensitized skin.

Her skin began to heat, and her eyes closed as her lovers hands made short work of her shorts before becoming occupied between her legs. She smiled—she had missed this. The long weeks of her recovery had been all the more frustrating after being discharged from the hospital. Being at home had put her in familiar surroundings that elicited memories of comfort—and lustful passion.

But the doctor had prohibited strenuous activity—which explicitly included sex. And Jethro—over protective boyfriend that he was— refused to allow her to go against the doctor's orders. Ziva had noticed several times where he himself wanted to forgo the instructions, but he had remained strong, effectively burying his desire beneath his concern for her physical health.

A jolt of pleasure ran through Ziva at that point, making her gasp at the intensity of it. Her fingers curled around the back of his head as his lips tickled her abdomen. His fingers were hard at work, slowly but surely driving her into a frenzy.

She felt Jethro grin against her navel as she began to work her hips against him, growing impatient with his deliberate ministrations. She was just about to peak when his fingers withdrew, eliciting a feral growl of displeasure. Gibbs stood, rising once more to her level.

His own arousal, already prominent, only grew when he saw the unbridled passion in her gaze. But her flushed features were shaped into an expression of minor annoyance at his abrupt refusal to pleasure her. But then her hand came up and pulled him closer, close enough to crush her lips over his. The roles had switched—she was now in control.

But this was the game they played. She had allowed him to have control, but he'd failed to meet her expectations, so she had taken charge. But even though she now had control, he knew exactly what was going to happen. He had left her only one option to take, and that was to finish what he had started.

His hands, callused by years of hands-on living, pressed into her hips and lifted her up, giving her legs room to wrap tightly around his waist. He stepped into her, pressing her against the smooth wood of the boat. The sharp edges of the boat's frame bit into her back, pulling a gasp from her lips. With one arm she reached up and gripped the wood above her head as leverage.

He too, used the frame for support, using one arm to prop himself up over top of her. Ziva could see the curve of muscle, so often hidden by his sport coats and long sleeves. From where she was, her eyes hooded with peaking arousal, he was the picture of power and masculine strength—a picture that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins at his first thrust.

Corded muscle twitched with every motion, each plunge coming in time with her heartbeat. Her pulse raced, her ears roaring as the basement echoed with carnal sounds. Short fingernails raked across Ziva's hip, making her writhe against the wood support beam. His breath hitched as her body clenched, and his pace increased. He was close. So very close.

They both were.

Her eyes closed as she focused on the fire in her gut, straining to reach the pinnacle. A tingle started in her toes, racing upwards until a scream bubbled in her throat—

Ziva's eyes flew open. Darkness poured in on her, chasing away the vision of the basement she'd been dreaming. Her heart pounded in her chest, but even now was slowing to its natural rhythm, dispelling the last evidence of her vivid experience.

For a long moment, she simply lay there, tangled in the bedsheets, staring numbly at the smooth ceiling above her. As lucidity slowly returned, she let her head fall to the side—her bed was empty. She was alone.

The realization made her chest ache with need, and she forced herself to blink the reflexive tears away. One hand lifted brush away the hair stuck to her sweat-slicked forehead, and it was then she realized how warm it was—the sweat was not only a result of her erotic fantasy. The night was humid in the way only Virginia could be, a heat so different from Israel. It felt like she was swimming, her chest heavy with every breath she managed to suck into her ravaged lungs.

In the resounding silence she heard the click of a door opening. Her lips curled into a grin, but she didn't move to greet the shadowy visitor. At least, not until the bed dipped, and a familiar visage edged into her field of vision.

"Hey." The low voice made her skin tingle in remembrance.

"Hey," she returned. He must have heard the rumble in her voice, because curiosity instantly sparked in his gaze. But it he played his reaction close to the vest, and let his revelation go unnoticed. For now. "Where were you?"

"Thermostat's busted," he replied. "Got us a glass of water so we wouldn't roast to death in here." A brow arched in her direction. "Why? Something interesting happen while I was gone?"

She smirked. "You have no idea," she purred, looping her arms around his neck. She delivered a quick peck on the lips. "But let's just say I was _very_ disappointed when I awoke and you were not here."

"I missed it?" He was teasing her now, as she was him. "Damn. Gotta work on my timing." One hand pushed her tank top up, peeling it away from her damp skin.

She grinned, kissing him again as he nimbly positioned himself over her. She let him, knowing she'd end up on top in the end. But for now, he slowly lowered himself closer to her, nibbling the side of her neck.

"Jethro?" she asked softly, before the familiar coital haze obscured her senses completely. He hummed distractedly in acknowledgement. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything."

She smiled at his response, letting loose a contented little sight. She liked that word: _anything._ It went hand in hand with _everything_ , which in turn paired nicely with _forever_.

 _Forever_ sounded like heaven on Earth.

"We have got to build another boat."

* * *

_A/N: This is as close as I'm ever going to get to explicit sex, so you better enjoy it while you can. This was something originally intended for Fairytale Nightmare, I think, but I switched it around a bit to fit in with the Something More verse. Plus, it gave me the idea for the little twist at the end._

_As always, I love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to review. :D You know you want to, after this. Right?_


End file.
